Puppy Piers
by Frostbite Journals
Summary: Mostly anthropomorphic. The dogs and cats are humans with different color hair, tails, cat/dog ears, and animal tendencies. Other than that, they're society. And this one has Piers in it. Read and Enjoy!
1. Piers

_**Puppy Piers**_

_**Chapter 1: Piers Nivans**_

**I'm writing this, despite having not even barely started Reflex and Hypothermia and having resumed another 50-chapter-or-so fic. Someone put a leash on me, ugh. Yes, it's a fluff fic, sorta, my first, but it has an underlying plot, with some drama...I don't even know anymore. Partially inspired by havocandponcy's askcaptainchrisandpuppypiers Tumblr blog. Enjoy, woof!**

**Yes, I changed Piers' hair color just to be fun. Whatcha got to say about it? —Chris**

_-Chris Redfield-_

I gripped my tranquilizer gun with a relaxed hand. Whatever the problem was with this Doberman, it couldn't be too hard to handle. I'd had my fights with large dogs before. I was walking down the street calmly, heading for Centerpoint.

I may be freelance these days, but my demand for animal control was actually a lot better than it used to be with the squads. On a suburb like mine, the squads really took too long to organize and get to the area, and by the time they got there, the dog or cat had fled and was gone. On the other hand, I worked alone, so I could usually go to where the call was from on the spot and figure which direction they were still going. I got a lot more calls for that reason. That, and my expertise, of course.

Hmm...the spot should be just up ahead. I took a turn down the Centerpoint corner and kept moving until I came to the Eastpoint corner, and I heard a commotion. It sounded like two guys fighting. I quickened my pace and rounded the corner until I saw what was going on.

"Give it up, asshole!"

"Paws off! Leave me alone!"

There were yelps and growls. I guess that meant I had found my dog. I pulled out my tranquilizer and took aim. There he was. A big, muscular, Doberman with a tan and barely any hair; what I could see of it seemed to be ginger. He had tall ears and a long, thin tail. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of black boxers and torn, ripped shorts. And he was fighting with another dog.

The second one was taller, slightly more muscular, from what I could tell, and had shorter ears. He was biting and hitting the other viciously, and was halfway shirtless, because the ginger was trying to tear his shirt away from him. His other clothes consisted of a pair of jeans and a small belt, along with pretty ragged socks. His hair was was a series of uneven black, white, and grey stripes, and stuck up in the front in a way only gel could get. His tail was long, thick, and fluffy, and was bent at an angry angle as he tried to pry his shirt back from the Doberman.

"Dammit, just let go already!"

"I'm not letting anything go, you little bastard!"

I took careful aim. It was difficult; the two kept moving around too much. I was squinting and trying to keep a lock on the ginger. Finally, they started fighting at a relatively static angle, and I was ready to fire.

I was just about to pull the trigger when something black and white streaked across my line of sight. It flew right past the squabbling pair, and suddenly the two were one. "W-Wait!" The stripe-haired dog fell on his hands, missing his shirt completely now, and the ginger Doberman had gone flying behind the white and black blur, which I barely had time to see flash around the corner, the shirt flapping behind it. I ran after them, determined to stop whatever it was that had intervened in the fight, but by the time I got around the next stop sign, they and the Doberman were long gone, and going back to my car would only give them time to hide. Sighing, I went back to the dog who'd had his shirt stolen.

He was just picking himself up off of the ground, dusting off his bare chest, tail between his legs. I slowly walked up to him, hoping he wouldn't attack me. He looked up at me mournfully. Well, he didn't have to look very far up. For a dog, he was only an inch or two shorter than me. "Did you see who they were?" he asked in a strained voice. He shifted his weight nervously.

"Sorry puppy. I got the Doberman on lock, but I couldn't see who that other guy was." I said apologetically. Now that I looked, his hair was pretty thick, and he had icy blue eyes...I think he was a husky.

"Oh..." he said sadly. He put a hand in his pocket and looked at the ground. "I-I'll go somewhere else now." he said.

"Hold up, kiddo." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What's your name?"

He turned around, wide-eyed. "Uh, Piers Nivans...sir." he said, shuffling his feet.

"Species?" I asked.

"Siberian Husky." he said. Wow...a Siberian here in Tall Oaks? And this guy looked like he could be in better shape. "You look pretty beaten up. Why don't you come with me?" I said.

"I haven't done anything wrong, sir!" he yelped instantly, tail jumping back underneath him. "Calm down, Piers. I just thought I'd getcha to my place, clean you up, let you stay the night. You feel like it?" I offered him. His tail immediately went back up and started wagging to match the smile on his face and his perked up ears. "Yes please, officer!" he said. "Come on then." I said, motioning for him to move behind me. I started walking towards my car, and he followed, bouncing on his heels. I unlocked it, got in, and opened the door for him, patting the passenger seat. He jumped in and curled up.

"Seat belt." I reminded him. "Yes sir." he said, and fastened the belt over his shoulder. "Are you in the military?" he asked while I pulled off of the curb. "Hehe, nah." I said, fingering the dog tags I still wore around my neck. I used to be in the air force, but I got discharged and took up animal control. Now I'm freelance." I explained to him.

"Oh." he said, content for the moment. After a few more streets though, he had another question. "Do you have any other dogs at your home?" Piers asked.

"Nope, no animals. Just me and Jill." I said.

"Is Jill your wife?" he asked, and I went red. "No, she's not, we're just friends. We share a house in my name." I said. After that, Piers was silent all the way home. We pulled up into my driveway and I let him out, going to unlock the door while he went and sniffed Jill's ivy vines. "Piers, over here." I said when I had the door open. He hurried over and walked into the home, taking off his socks and laying them next to Jill's shoes, where I also put my own. "Jill!" I called out. "Come on out here, I got someone here to see you!"

Jill Valentine came down the hallway, blonde hair waving behind her, and looked us over carefully. "You brought home a puppy." she said.

"Um..." Piers said timidly. "I'm a grown dog..."

"I'm Jill Valentine." she introduced herself, holding out her hand. Piers took it nervously, shaking it. "H-hi Jill." he said.

"You're adopting him, right?" Jill said tersely. Piers and I both went red and Piers' ears flattened. "Uh, Jill, I don't know if we can do that..." I started carefully. I knew Jill had long since wanted some cat or dog with us, but right now I hadn't exactly signed up for that.

"Why not? Between the two of us, we have the money to feed him." she said, walking over to us and taking hold of Piers' chin, and tilting his face sideways. "He's really cute, and he looks like he needs someplace to stay." she said. I couldn't really agree; Piers looked pretty healthy.

"I offered him to stay the night." I said, straightening my dog tags. She looked disappointed. "Alright. Well, what's your name?" she asked Piers.

"Piers Nivans." he repeated. "Well, Chris, why don't you let Piers stay the night here and then see what you think about him being a permanent resident here tomorrow morning?" Jill suggested. Now that just wasn't fair. I knew that if I let him stay the night here with him thinking he could convince me to let him stay here as our own, I couldn't just say 'Alright Piers, time for you to go, it was nice meeting you.' It'd crush his heart. My head said no, but my mouth ended up saying:

"Okay."

* * *

"Okay, almost ready!" I called out. I had several different meats prepared for dinner—I didn't know which one Piers would like, and since I'd _told_ him it was only one night, I figured I should try to make it good for him. Piers hopped up from the couch, aimed at the dinner table. "Wash first." I instructed. "Jill will show you where the bathroom is." I said. Jill waved him over to the hallway and they cleaned up. No sooner were they out, than the frying pan popped. "Guess it _is_ready." I said, taking the pans off of the stove. "Jill, how's the steak coming?" I asked. Jill was about to answer when Piers came running around the corner.

"Steak? You made steak? Where is it?" he asked, grinning.

"It's out back on the grill." I said. Piers went for the door, but Jill stopped him.

"Easy, Piers. It's got...I think about five more minutes left, Chris." she said, peeping her head out back and closing the door.

"I made some other stuff too, if you want, Piers." I said, gesturing to plate of bacon, chicken, and pork I'd made. Piers sat down a the table, tail wagging impatiently.

Well, dinner was going to be fun.

* * *

Piers had borrowed a shirt of mine, which didn't fit _too _loosely on him, and was now curled up on the sofa watching television next to me. Over dinner, we'd found out that Piers was an incredible fan of steak and could easily clean his plate faster than I could when it was served. He also was a smart one, as he'd almost beaten Jill at chess an hour ago. Now it was getting late and she was already in bed, and we were watching Two and a Half Men together.

Piers let out a yawn. "Tired, puppy?" I asked. He just nodded. I reached over and rubbed his hair, and he leaned into it, leg kicking. I could see why someone would adopt him; he was sweet and a pretty handsome breed. "You can go to bed anytime. My room and Jill's will both have you." I said. He shook his head. "Mkay, if you're sure." I said.

After a while though, I was yawning too, and it was definitely time for bed. I reached over and seized the remote, clicking the off button. "Alright, we gotta hit the sack. No more TV tonight, k?" I said to Piers, and he nodded. "You sleep anywhere you want, the fridge is open as long as it's still half stocked in the morning. I'm off." I finished. I clicked off the living room light and went back to my room.

I removed my shirt and pants in the dark, then sank underneath my bed sheets. I'd be after that Doberman and whatever other animal I had seen tomorrow.

A few minutes later, though, I heard footsteps. "Jill?" I called out quietly. Instead of an answer, I felt my bed being pressed down as someone crawled over it. I felt Piers curl up and settle over my chest, eyes big and mournful. "You...said I could sleep anywhere I wanted." he said. "If you want me to leave..." he started.

"No, no, it's fine." I said. I turned over underneath him, facing my window. "Just remember to go sleep in Jill's bed tomorrow night. She'll feel neglected." I said.

Piers' ears perked up. "Does that mean...I'm staying?" he asked shyly. I grunted. "Of course you are. I can say no to Jill, and maybe to you, but not to both of you. Jeez, I'm a pushover." I said gruffly.

"...Yeah, you kind of are." he said after a moment, and laid down again. "Goodnight Chris. Thanks for having me." he whispered.

"No problem. Goodnight, Piers." I said. I was asleep soon after.

* * *

**I feel like this was rushed. And hey, it kind of was. It's probably not my best material, but I'm working on it. Damn high school... —Chris**


	2. Kawaii Tooth Marks

_**Puppy Piers**_

_**Chapter 2: Kawaii Tooth Marks **_

**The Redfield House becomes complete in this chapter! -Chris**

**Warning: Do not read if you do not like depictions of video game characters as cute hyperactive puppies being taken in by a mechanic and a private dog-catcher.**

"Why do we have to do this?!" Piers whined, pulling against my grip and dragging his butt on the ground.

It was early in the morning, around eight, and we were sitting in line outside the door to the Stray Registration Office. I was starting to wonder if Piers wasn't always planning a new complaint, because whenever he did open his mouth, it was to say something against getting a collar or anything remotely related to getting a collar.

"Because the state won't let me keep you without a collar, Piers, now quit complaining, and cut that out or you'll have chafe burn." I said gruffly.

Piers stood up, but he still didn't want to go. "I hate collars. They itch and they're annoying." he said.

"Have you ever even worn one?" I asked dully.

"Yes!" Piers said, getting defensive. "And it's not like you have to walk around all day with a thing on your neck that says your name and where to drive you to if you 'get lost'." he said.

"Actually, I do. It's my personal ID, I gotta wear it whenever I get a call. And so you'll notice," I said, pulling it out of my shirt pocket, "it's on a lanyard." I said.

"Uuuugh." Piers groaned. "I really don't think-"

"Do you want steak tonight or don't you, Piers?" I interrupted.

"Yes sir, Chris." he said, straightening up and shutting up fast.

"That's what I thought. Now come on, and we'll get you registered." I said, walking him into the building.

* * *

I was sitting there, sipping coffee, when a very, very frantic banging on the front door sounded. I sighed. It was only eight in the morning. "Who is it?" I called out, irritated.

"Finn Macauley!" rang out. It sounded like a teenager, or a young man, and I didn't recognize the name. I got up, walked into the foyer, and opened the door. Who greeted me, was a small dog, a puppy really. He came up to my shoulder, and he had blue hair. His ears stuck out from underneath a cap, sort of like a military hat. His hands were covered in dark blue gloves that were in terrible shape-they were full of teeth marks. He had on a green, stained shirt and jeans. Finn looked up at me with eyes the size of dinner plates. "Is Piers here, uh, ma'am? I heard he was in trouble and got taken here." he said.

"Piers just left, kiddo." I said. "He's not in any trouble, we took him in. He lives here now. Do you know him?" I asked.

"He and I are friends." Finn yipped nervously. "When will he be back?" he asked.

"He's just going to get registered and sign for a collar right now, he should be back in half an hour or so." I said. "The man who owns this home might let you two talk for a while if you need to, but he was in a fight yesterday, so he might be suspicious. I would be too." I said. "What did you say your name was?"

"Finn Macauley, miss..."

"Jill Valentine." I said. I stuck out a hand and he shook it. He stood up straighter. "I'd offer you coffee, but my own morning hasn't kicked in yet, not sure if that's a good idea for me personally, sorry." I said, rubbing my eyes to make sure he didn't have any signs of being feral in any way.

Actually, I was smart to do that, because I _did_ see a sign of trouble. If I looked at his mouth, past the curled whimper-lip, I saw teeth, and crazy sharp ones too. These weren't normal canines, these were polished, white, perfectly straight and pencil-sharpener quality teeth. That explained the gloves. I resisted the urge to back away a few steps. Seeing all those teeth was like something out of a child scare film, honestly.

"I understand." he said.

"You look like you could use some rest. Do you wanna come inside until Piers comes back?" I offered. I actually wanted him inside to keep an eye on him. Something told me this kid could hurt someone if he wanted, so when Chris got home, he would be checking those teeth.

"Yes please!" he said. I stepped aside, and he nearly tripped over the threshold in his haste to get in. I saw a tiny blue puffball of a tail wagging furiously as he wiped his feet on the mat. "Have a seat in the..." I paused. "the kitchen." I said. I hoped Finn wasn't the type to break things, because his energy seemed to threaten it.

* * *

"Thank you sir, we'll have the tag ready at about noon, and you can come pick it up then or anytime after."

"Much appreciated." I said, nodding politely. Piers had clammed up, and by the look of his face, he was pouting. "Someone grumpy?" I teased.

"No." he responded immediately. "I just think that decision was a little rushed, Chris."

"Tell that to the state." I said with a sigh, and then a smile. "Well, what do you want to eat for-"

"Steak!" he yipped, and then flattened his ears immediately. "Sorry. Shouldn't have yelled." he said apologetically.

"I meant for breakfast." I said, laughing. "I don't think you want that this early in the morning."

"I don't?" Piers said, a confused look on his face. "Oh, I guess not. Do you guys have any bacon left?" he asked.

"Sure." I said. "Guess you'll be wanting half the pack to yourself?"

"Yes please." he said quickly. I laughed again. "Alright, bacon you want, bacon you got."

"Thanks Chris." Piers said, smiling. I drove us home, thinking I might only _tell_ Piers it was half a pack. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

It looked like Jill was "awake" now, as the dining room light was on. I pulled up, climbed out, and fished my key out of my pocket. Piers followed up behind me as I opened the door. I walked in, peering into the living room. Jill must have still been siphoning coffee, since she wasn't in there. So I took advantage of the empty couch and stretched myself out on it, finding the remote. "Time to feel like an old deadbeat." I said. Piers hopped up onto the arm next to me and leaned back. Good, a nice ghost Syfy was on. Cheesy, but still entertaining. I shifted my weight and turned to lay on my back as I listened to what they were saying.

"-and all hell broke loose in the form of-

"Finn?"

"Piers?"

"Oh, hi Chris, I should tell you-"

I gasped as a body landed on me and started...poking me. The wind left me and for a second I was dizzy and my lungs strained.

"Wow!" a young, energetic voice yelped from above me. "His chest is so _big_! Can I sleep on it?"

"What? No way, that's my spot!" I heard Piers yell.

"Um, Chris, this is Finn..." Jill's voice said from behind the couch. I looked up at the man sitting on me. He was a dog.

_Dammit, Jill, not again..._ I thought inside my head.

* * *

"So you're gonna be staying here with me?" I asked. Finn was sitting on the sofa with me, tail going like mad, while Chris and Jill argued in the next room.

"I hope so. Miss Valentine said I could stay as long as I didn't bite too many things, but I think Mr. Redfield might not let me." he said.

"I'm sure he will. He gives in pretty easily to Jill. I mean I think he does." I said, curiously. "I hope you stay. It'd be cool to have you live here with me."

"Wouldn't it?" Finn said. Right then, Chris and Jill came out of the bedroom and Chris cleared his throat.

"Piers, Finn." he said. We slid off the couch and gave them our attention.

"Piers, you're registered to me. Tomorrow, Finn will be registered to Jill. Got that?" he said. His face was really red, and I got the feeling Jill had beaten him in the arguing match pretty good.

"Understood, Captain." I said. Chris grimaced, but I laughed and Finn let a giggle escape him.

I should tell Jill about Finn's nervous biting problem...nah, maybe later.


	3. Dogs, Cats, Snakes

_**Puppy Piers**_

_**Chapter 3: Dogs, Cats, Snakes**_

**Plot-esque stuff is going to happen now, and less dialogue... Enjoy! -Chris **

It was our first Friday in the Redfield House. Finn had come back at around noon, sporting a shiny new collar just like mine. I thought it was weird he didn't put up a fight against it, but oh well. Jill and Chris were still tense. Since they were having a pretty strained lunch together at the dining room table, I thought I should go over and see if I could ease them up. Finn joined me immediately, tail wagging at anything that had to do with the kitchen.

Finn was a blue pitbull, and a pretty young one. On the streets, he'd been semi-famous as "the paper tiger" because of his razor teeth and innocent personality bordering on inferiority complex. He did his species name justice-that wasn't even dye in his fur, it was natural. He was never without that hat and those gloves, no matter how worn and ragged the latter became. He'd been my friend for the past year on the streets, pity being one of the reasons-not the primary one though. I could see why nobody had taken him, because of all things, he loved two the most: biting, and explosions. He would always make Molotov cocktails and such things to see how much of nobody's property he could destroy. Well, those were two things on restriction in the Redfield home.

Finn had had a hard time adjusting to the house in the past few days, mostly because of the biting complex. See, he's kinda like a cat, because whenever he sees something loose or moving too fast, like...tails, or paws and hands, he just has to bite it. He's been to a therapist once for it, and that's why he wears his gloves around so much. He can just chew on them whenever he gets that urge, and if he wears them out too much, like he had for a while, then he'd be forced to think twice about biting for potential of drawing his own blood. It was his way of keeping his habit under control. So far, he had only slipped up once, and that was when he'd bitten Chris's hand when it got too close. Thankfully he relaxed his jaws in time to prevent and marks.

So I sat down between Chris and Jill and Finn sat across from me. Chris looked up to acknowledge us and then went back to his sandwich, and Jill just continued chewing. "Hi, good lunch?" I tried. Nod. Nod. Grunt. Hmph.

"Um, Jill?" Finn piped up. She turned his way and swallowed. "Yes?" she said.

"I was wondering why you have all those tools in the shed." he asked. "Chris said they weren't his." he mentioned.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm a mechanic, Finn." she explained. "I tinker with a lot of things when I'm not working."

"They used to call her 'the Master of Unlocking' back at her desk job." Chris said with a smirk. She threw him a dirty look.

"Yes, they did. They also called me the Master of Kicking Your Ass if you tell these two about the other name." she said sourly.

"Alright, alright, I won't."

"What's the other name?!" Finn yipped immediately. Jill facepalmed.

I wonder if this counts as easing the tension?

* * *

"Get in here, you imbecile, and hurry." the snow leopard growled in a low voice. I trotted in, rubbing the soles of my feet, which were sore from trying to keep up with him for so long. I ducked under the awning, and slid myself into the makeshift metal-and-scraps igloo. We were in the scrapyard, specifically the one furthest from the inner city in Tall Oaks. A large highway could be heard right next to us, and was what prevented us from leaving the city other than through the North and South gates.

"I'm comin', I'm comin', damn, hold your high and mighty ass up a little." I was well aware that I was one of the only people that could talk to this guy-or anyone of his species-like that. But he sighed and sat down, folding himself up on the clawed-up couch. "You gonna tell me what this is about yet?" I asked, dropping the shirt we'd stolen from the husky earlier this week.

"No." Wesker said, irritated. "You'll figure it out in a few days, if and when I feel like letting you in on the plan." he said in his low drawl. "Do not forget, you are not entirely necessary from this point out."

I didn't really believe him. I don't think he'd leave me. He was pretty fuckin' rotten, but I'm pretty sure he had a soft spot for me somewhere under that black and white fur. Wesker was a snow leopard, and as such, he was feral. Unlike most animals you see in Tall Oaks, he was covered in fur, all silvery with black spots and rings. He moved like liquid grace and could outrun or outmaneuver anyone he met. Also unlike most animals in this city, he was always naked. He seemed to have a distinct disdain for clothes. I wouldn't say I exactly wanted to be like him, at least I wore my boxers and socks at all times. Come to think of it, I was gonna have to buy some new ones of those soon. Or steal some.

Wesker and I had only met two months ago. He was trying to stay out from under the radar in the city, and he was doing a damn good job of that, considering how huge he was. He'd kind of taken me in as a father-son relationship. We pretty much lived in this igloo in the scrapyards and made do with what we had. Wesker didn't want to stay here, though. He was trying to get out of the city without being detected. Problem was, see, that there are only two ways of getting in and out of Tall Oaks, without growing wings and flying, and that's the North and South Gates, both heavily guarded. On all other sides of the city, you got highways and gang territory, so Tall Oaks was gated and locked up tight to prevent any accidents that could be confused for being the city's fault. Wesker was not the type to risk his safety and security mauling his way past dozens of officers trying to get to the outside. I figured there was something out there he was trying to get to, and something he didn't feel like telling anyone, but I let that much go.

"And hang that shirt up somewhere, we need to preserve the scent on it."

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to handle the answers to." he said immediately. "You'll know later, Jake. And that's it." he said, sounding tired of my voice already. And I'd barely said more than ten words to him. But he was like that sometimes. Too busy working in his head to deal with anybody else.

I stretched and laid down. I thought I might go out and lay in the sun for a while.

* * *

"Giant snakes? Really?" Chris said. He was smiling, but I knew he didn't believe us. Since we had been asking them about their jobs and whatnot lately, Jill had asked us to tell them something of our own. So Finn and I were explaining the Snake Legends of Tall Oaks. It was nice to tell, but Jill and Chris didn't seem to be hanging onto our words. Finn loved telling and hearing about this one.

"It's true!" he insisted.

"Ah huh. And how come nobody's ever seen these massive snakes?" Jill asked sarcastically.

"Because, they're _snakes_." I said, trying not to give too much of a "_duh_" impression. "They're like the quietest animals ever!"

"Alright alright. So where do these snakes live?" Chris asked, rolling his eyes.

"At the North and South gates!" Finn said. "And one of them is supposed to be invisible!"

That just got Jill and Chris laughing like hell. Well, they might not believe it, but Finn and I definitely did. What else could be in those caves? Why else wouldn't anyone go in them? An invisible snake might be stretching it, but I was sure they were real.

"Go on, finish the story." Jill said. She was trying to not giggle.

I sighed. Why bother if you don't believe it? "Nah. I'll tell you guys later. Maybe at night." I said. I stood up. Tension was definitely eased. "Come on, Finn. Let's go out and play a game or something." I offered. Finn jumped up, his puffball wagging behind him, and followed me. Chris and Jill waved us out.

We went outside, Finn tagging me like a shadow, and I found an old basketball in the shed. We had no goal or anything, so we'd have to just toss it back and forth. "Do you think they'll believe the part about the caves when we tell 'em?" he asked.

"Pfft. No." I said, throwing him the ball. Finn caught it, and aimed it in my direction. "They'll probably just blow it off just like the snake part of the story." I said, catching the ball when it flew towards my chest.

"But...it's true, Piers!" Finn said again, sounding like he was trying to convince me too.

"I know. But they're humans, they have that weak smell and hearing. They'd never believe it unless we brought them an actual giant snake to prove it."

"If only."

We laughed.

* * *

That was wierd. I thought I'd seen a flash of red when I'd turned around...Nah. Probably nothing. I made my way into the igloo; Wesker was getting testy again. Or maybe just lonely.


	4. Regalities

_**Puppy Piers**_

_**Chapter 4: Regalities**_

**Wow, this sure took a long time, I'm sorry!**

The makeshift garbage igloo was usually pretty quiet, but today was different. Today, I could hear footsteps groqing closer to the mound of trash we called home, and I could tell Wesker was hearing it too, because his eyes were open and he had that glare on his face that he gets whenever you interrupt his nap. His ears were also twitching with every footstep. I could tell he was getting annoyed in the ready-to-kill-shit way, so I got up and started walking towards the entrance and peeked out.

"Good Morning."

The voice was...strange. It was like...ya know how a guy's voice is called husky sometimes? Well this was like the female version. It just oozed sex and mystery. The woman it was coming from was standing right outside. She was tall, and had short dark brown hair that hung around her ears like curtains. She wore earrings, and she was wearing a really revealing blue one-piece outfit on with a black waist belt. She also had a red scarf. On her feet, she had on really tall high-heel boots.

"Morning." I answered back carefully. "Who the hell are you?"

"Carla Wong Radames. I'm here for the snow leopard." she answered coolly. My ears perked up and I leaned up, blocking the entrance. "Ain't no snow leopard here, lady. You'd better get goin'."

"I'm not that easily fooled." she said. I noticed a weird-lookin gun on her hip. It was all round at the end and had a pronged hook hanging out of it. It didn't look too friendly, but I stood my ground. "Step aside, Wesker Junior."

She even knew his name. Damn. I heard clinking steps from inside, and Wesker came up behind me. "Move out of the way, Jacob. The woman in blue must have something important to say if she came all _this_ way."

I did as I was told, and the way these two looked at each other was weird. Carla had this weird disdain in her eyes, and Wesker had his usual contented, knowing look. It made for a sort of stand-off scene, kinda.

"You're wanted at the Wong Estate."

"Whatever for?"

"To stay." Carla answered. I just about would've spit if I'd been drinking something. Nobody was supposed to know we were here, much less names, and yet this woman from Fancy Town wanted this guy at her home? "Why?" I asked.

"Because." Carla said, her voice sounding like she really couldn't care less, "My twin sister has a flare for the exotic. She figures a snow leopard is just what she needs at her home to spice things up. Be the talk of the neighborhood. You understand. You'll be provided with a home, decent food, a place to sleep, and the entire gardens to roam, so long as you don't wander off." she explained. "Are you interested?"

I had a feeling Carla wouldn't stop at "not interested", but Wesker answered first. "I'd be delighted."

"So are we gonna get collars and all that shit? I hate collars." I asked.

"I don't typically agree with the brat, but must we?"

"We? There's no 'we' in this. The Doberman isn't coming. Not invited. The Wong Estate typically doesn't take in mongrels who look like street trash, even clean."

Wait, what the hell? Wesker got to live in the Wong Estate and I wasn't invited? "That's a bunch of shit!"

"Take it or leave it, Wesker. Either way, someone's staying here in this garbage igloo. It can be one or both of you. If you accept, you'll be at the entrance to this dump at nightfall. If not, your loss."

And she walked away. Just as casual as if it were a business meeting-well, it was a business meeting, as casual as if it were in an office aisle. Or something like that.

"Well? You're not going to just leave me in this shit hole, right?" I asked Wesker, uncomfortable.

The look on his face did not make me any happier.

* * *

"It's going to be easy."

"Says you. That bitch looked richer than Ricardo Irving himself. If she's trying to do this covert, you can bet there's people watching, she can obviously afford them."

"Just shut up and do what I say. You just follow along behind the second car and jump on before they see you. It's as easy as that."

"Yeah, says you." I complained. Wesker was fast enough and strong enough, _and_ graceful enough that he could probably make a running leap onto the back of one of these vans without getting detected. I'm not quite that graceful.

The headlights from the vans outside the barrier dimmed. People were walking towards us. I squinted, seeing Carla, two men in suits, and...red.

I remember now. That figure was familiar. It was that flash of red I'd seen outside the igloo that one time. It was a woman, and she looked just like Carla, but wearing a red suit shirt and tight black pants. Her hair and face were identical, as was the figure. They walked towards the entrance side by side in unison, looking just like twins.

"Hide!" Wesker hissed.

I jumped around a corner and held my breath while the four made their way up in front of Wesker, who promptly flattened his ears and growled at the two men. They quivered, but Red and Carla didn't flinch.

"Evening, Wesker." Red said. Even her voice was identical to Carla's.

"Good evening, ladies."

"My name is Ada Wong. You've met my sister, Carla." Carla gave a nod in Wesker's direction. "And if she's told you what was agreed on, then you being here at the gate means you're ready for a new home, right?"

"That's correct." Wesker purred.

"Well then, get in the van, and we'll be off. I'm sure you'll like the place."

And they started walking. Wesker trotted along behind them, and I could see that pampered air around him as he was set up in the back of a black van and closed off from view. According to him, I had to wait until the two vans started rolling out, come from the angle of a blind spot, which he'd mapped out for me earlier, and then take a running leap onto the back rim of the van without being detected, before it got too far or started going too fast, and ride the entire way back to the Estate. From there, I just had to not be seen sneaking onto the gardens. Some simple shit, right?

Ugh.


End file.
